Homeward Bound
by A. E. Stover
Summary: [Canon Time-Skip AU] More than a decade after the defeat of the Galra Empire, the Voltron paladins meet again to attend a wedding celebration of two of their own. They have not seen each other in years. (Rated T for coarse language; Background Klance; Background Shallura)


Out beyond the stars on a faraway planet, in some forgotten nebula, lies the original Castle of Lions. It is nestled on mossy terrain, hidden by a tropical overgrowth of thick vines and dark, leafy greens. Beneath the foothold of the entrance, now deeply embedded into the mossy roots of a grand tree, is a single cracked tile.

From its dull surface, a young man uses the palm of his large hand to wipe away the moisture of condensation. Suddenly, with a flash of yellow light, a symbol lights up on the tile and blinks three times before freezing the yellow image onto the tile's now sparkling, glassy surface. The young man stills to look upon the tile, his stare as lengthy as it is somber and his mind carried away to a time long ago, when something else had lit up in bright, golden hues in response to his touch. Slowly, he splays his fingers open and stretches out his hand.

Then, a long, slimy tongue darts out without warning to lavish the tile with sticky saliva.

Immediately, the young man groans with disgust. He reprimands the beast he has brought with him on this journey, pushing against its heavy side. "Ugh, Kaltenecker, no."

The beast belches, tongue still drooling all over the tile. The symbol blinks rapidly, then goes through a series of colors as it beeps questioningly — red, blue, black, pink, green, yellow, then back to red, blue, black, pink, green, yellow — The tile continues beeping and flashing colors, the symbols changing with each new color and sound. Drool slobbers all over the tile in thick glops. The tile begins to fizzle, the beeping turning high in its pitch and rapidly growing faster.

"Ohhh, that's— that's not good. That's— That's bad." The young man is chewing on the ends of his fingertips, even if that means he's chewing on the ends of a metal-plated glove.

Kaltenecker replies with a long, unconcerned moo.

Suddenly, the tile flashes blue and the tiles makes a pleasant beeping sound. A mechanized voice from inside the castle speaks, the voice still clear after all these years. _"Recognized: Kaltenecker, bos taurus."_

The young man stares at the blue symbol on the tile, stares at the drooling cow, and then stares at the blue symbol once more. His great big shoulders follow his facial features, which droop in disbelief. "You gotta be kidding me."

With a soft hiss, the entrance to the Castle of Lions opens. The young man stills again, watching with widening eyes as the way in, unchanged in its sight, brings him not forward but back — way, _way_ back — and he sees behind the Castle of Lions not the overgrown forest, but a wide, open sky, a richly craterous, rugged planet, an arid desert, a melting planet, and a hundred other worlds he has seen, fought in, and — on quite a few occasions — nearly died in. He thinks he can feel his old battle wounds again, the wet trickling of blood from one of his cranial injuries—

Nope, those are just his tears. Nostalgia's the only weapon piercing him now.

His tears lead him back to the present with their quiet, gentle flow. What grounds him is not the satisfying realization of a past well lived, but a deep voice with a certain softness that he hasn't heard in quite some time.

"Hunk? Is that you?"

The young man whirls around, a grin already cracking his face in half. He spies a man of his age, fitted in a sleek uniform in the dark colors of the Galra Military, and throws out his arms. "Keith! Ohhh, man!" Said friend barrels right into his chest, the two of them laughing and grinning like fools. He squeezes Keith in a tight hug. "It's been so, so long!"

Keith coughs and, with movements still awkward despite years of close camaraderie, returns the hug with one of his own. "I'd say it's good to see you, but, uh. I can only see your hair? It's gotten long."

With a laugh, he pulls away, letting Keith flick his ponytail as they part. "Yeah, just. Something I had on the bucket list. It was either that or grow a beard." Behind him, Kaltenecker pushes past his arm to stretch its head out towards Keith. "Aw, your favorite person's here," Hunk coos, watching the cow nuzzle its face against Keith's hand.

"Yeah," is Keith's only reply. He's distracted by the familiar animal, who flicks its tail and huffs into the empty palms of his hands. "Sorry, bud. No treats today." The cow sniffs the material of its uniform, as if they could somehow change that. Then it gives up, pressing its face against Keith's side and closing its eyes.

Hunk regards the quiet reunion patiently, noting how the soft smile smooths over the stern hardness around Keith's eyes. "Have you visited Lance lately?" he asks.

The sternness returns, slowly. "I've been busy."

"Yeah."

"We both are." Keith sighs, and Hunk is reminded of the heaviness he feels in his chest each time he thinks of Shay. The fall of an oppressive empire may have delivered peace to millions, but the five of them have been stretched out in ways they'd never imagined before. Who knew maintaining peace was harder than fighting for it?

"You should do it," Keith suddenly says, "Grow a beard, I mean. You'd look nice."

Hunk chortles. "Wanna join me? Let's see who gets sick of it first."

"I've had a beard before. It's not that bad." Keith cracks a lopsided grin. "It saves a lot of time, actually."

Hunk chuckles. "Wow, that's. Totally something only you would say. You and Pidge, probably. I can see you two now, getting old and pruney and growing out your hair together. I bet if she could grow a beard, she'd totally do it."

"Fuck yeah," agrees a voice the two of them missed dearly. "And I'd braid the fuck out that shit, too."

Their heads snap to the side so fast, Hunk swears he sees stars. And he's somewhat right— he sees one star, at least— an iridescent one, pinned to the upper left arm of dark blue uniform with intricate, silver embroidery on the lapels and cuffs of the form-fitting jacket. A matching iridescent line of stars, four in total, and the pin of the newly re-structured Galaxy Alliance shone on the matching military cap atop unruly ginger hair.

He and Keith called for her simultaneously. "Pidge!" "Captain Holt."

"Captain Holt," Pidge says, pitching her voice deeper in an imitation of Keith's proper tone. "Really, Keith? Let's chill with the titles this once. We're not standing here in the middle of a jungle for a routine diplomatic meet-and-greet, so." Pidge grins toothily and places both hands on her hips, standing tall. "What's up, chucklefucks?"

"C'mere, you!" Hunk laughs, reaching over for her and squeezing her tight. He feels the coarse strands of her hair tickling his nose and pulls away with a laugh. "Look at you!" he says, proudly holding the grinning girl at arms' length. "You finally got your growth spurt! You're almost as tall as me, now!"

"I'm still cute though, right?" Pidge bats her eyelashes and smiles coyly. Her large eyes and lithe frame, together with her long hair that frames her face, makes her look like a doll. Hunk wonders how many war criminals have fallen for the paladin-turned-pirate captain's cutesy act. The baffling number of prisoners kept in _The Crater_ alone meant that dozens of different species have.

"No," answers Keith, looping a strong arm around Pidge's neck and pulling her into a headlock. "You're still just a brat."

"Hey!" Pidge breaks out into laughter when Keith initiates a noogie with his free hand. Suddenly, her laughing face contorts to a scandalized expression. "Ugh, dude, you fucking reek!" Pidge clamps down on her nose and mouth with her hands. "Where'd you crawl out of, Lotor's ass? You smell like dick that blew up in some cosmic explosion. And not in the good way, either."  
The irritated frown returns to Keith's face. "Your language is atrocious."

Pidge guffaws. "Oh, sorry. Is my language offending the venerable Prince of the Galra Nation?"

Hunk lets a tittering laugh escape him. "Is that what they're calling him?"

 _"No,_ they're _not."_ Keith scowls. "We dismantled the ruling hierarchy and let the Blade of Marmora establish a new governing system. There's no more royal family. I'm not a Prince. I'm the Field Marshal."

Pidge makes a thoughtful noise. "Yeah, okay. Fine. We got a prissy prince of our own, anywho. One who's _late,_ by the way. Where the fuck is Lance?"

"Isn't he inside?" Keith asks, gesturing to the blue symbol on the tile. "The door's open, and the symbol on the key is blue."

Hunk clears his throat. "Actually, uh. That was the cow."

"What."

Pidge narrows her eyes at Keith. "You lived on an Altean ship for over a decade, and you don't recognize what the Altean script for water looks like?"

Keith looks affronted. "I do! It's right there!"

"That's the script for _beast,_ you dipshit. Not water. And if you were paying any attention when we brought the Castle here to rest instead of seeing how far you can stick your tongue into Lance's mouth, you'd have known that Coran and I programmed the Castle to recognize the stupid cow as one of Lance's animal sidekicks."

Keith arches an eyebrow at Pidge. Then, he turns to Kaltenecker and kisses the air in front of him, as if he were sending the kiss to the cow. "Give her a kiss," he says, pointing to Pidge. The cow moos and clops over with slobbering lips.

Pidge cries out in horror. "What — ? No! Ew!"

Hunk lets Pidge climb up his back and seat herself on his shoulders. He places a hand on her knees to help keep her balanced.

"Keith!" Pidge shrieks. "Control your animal!"

"C'mon, Pidge," Hunk laughs, "A little slobber won't kill you."

"Lance kisses that little shit right on the mouth. You know where else Lance's mouth goes? On Keith's dick."

Hunk's shout of disgust mixes with Keith's exasperation. "Pidge!" _"Why_ are you like this?"

Pidge snorts. "Why don't _you_ dedicate an exorbitant part of your life playing hide-and-seek with Zarkon's old commanders and see how you turn out?"

Hunk gives Pidge a consoling pat on the knee as Keith nods with a somber face and says nothing.

A harsh, crackling of branches and rustling of leaves puts an end to their brief moment of realism. The trio of paladins glance curiously amongst themselves before eyeing a specific part of the woods. Beside Keith, Kaltenecker suddenly stills before heading for the spot the paladins were staring at. On the way, it doesn't stop belching out long and lengthy cries.

In a matter of seconds, a broad-shouldered man dressed in a flowy black tunic with a silvery blue trim squeezes through the thick overgrowth surrounding the forest clearing. In one hand, he holds a tall, skinny flask that sloshes noisily with each jerky movement he uses to struggle free, and in the other is a pair of expensive-looking shades. The man looks miserable, tugging his tunic through the bushes and grumbling obscenities under his breath. Twigs and leaves litter his silken hair, but not a scratch could be seen on his perfect, flawless baby skin.

Pidge scowls, her eyes narrowing as she touches her own cheeks, a few acne scars prevalent on her own soft skin. "He's thirty-seven, what the fuck," she mutters to herself. "That's not fair."

When three whole Earth minutes pass and Lance still hasn't gotten out of the bushes, the three paladins huddle together.

"Is he stuck?" asks Keith.

Hunk nods. "He looks stuck. Should we help him?"

"Nah," says Pidge, still sitting on Hunk's shoulders. "His cow's gone over to help. She's got this."

Kaltenecker makes pitiful cries and starts nibbling on the plant life entwined around its owner's legs.

"Oh my god, my _son,"_ Lance croons, bending over as if he were boneless to give the cow a sound smack on its mouth. "I knew you were the only good thing I'd ever get out here in space."

Kaltenecker presses its face into Lance's neck, closing its eyes and flicking its tail.

Another Earth minutes passes with Lance still trapped in the plant-life.

"He's fucking taller than the bush," hisses Pidge. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts some well-needed advice. "Fucking step over that shit!"

Lance's movements halt suddenly and he shoots them all a glare. "What's it look like I'm trying to do?"

"Swimming." "Getting more stuck?" "Fucking up."

Lance grits his teeth. _"Thanks,"_ he finally yanks one of his legs free, _"for,"_ he forcefully pulls his other leg out of the thorny bushes, the noisy tearing of expensive fabric making him curse under his breath again, _"nothing."_ With a deep scowl, Lance pops open the top of his flask and splashes some of its contents onto the tear in his tunic. Like the waves of a moonlit sea, the fabric ripples with a shimmer of silver as it repairs itself together. Lance plugs the flask and tucks it away into the mysterious folds of his tunic. Then he knocks his shades onto his face, puts his weight onto a single foot, clicks his tongue and shoots double finger-guns in Keith's direction. "Hey, babe. Bet you missed me the most, didn't you?" Kaltenecker moos loudly and pleasantly, moving back and forth between Lance and Keith and if it were trying to thread the two together.

The unimpressed look on Keith's face is as authentic as a burrito slapped together by a Taco Bell employee. "You look like shit."

Lance waggles his eyebrows. "I _am_ the shit."

A corner of Keith's mouth moves up, the only indication that Lance has humored him.

"Dude, what's with the shades?" asks Hunk. "We're in the middle of a jungle. There's an entire upper canopy hanging over us. It's hard enough to see without 'em as it is."

Keith snorts. "He's afraid you'll notice his ugly crow's feet and make fun of him." His tone is harsh, but the softness that returns to his eyes are a dead giveaway as to how much he's missed his old partner.

Lance all but screeches his reply. "I don't have crow's feet! I told you, I have light-sensitive eyes!"

Pidge grins toothily. "Don't get so defensive, old man."

Lance almost chokes. "Old man?!" He throws off his shades and points to his face. "I'll have you know that I still have my soft, delicate baby skin from when I was more than half my age!"

Suddenly, Keith crosses the distance between them. Two hands grab either sides of Lance's face. "God, I missed you," Keith says in the softest voice Hunk's ever heard.

The look in Lance's eyes turns tender. "Me too," he says, and closes the gap between their lips. As they kiss, Lance's hands reach out to grab —

Hunk brings a hand over his face and sighs as Lance grabs firmly onto each of Keith's buttocks.

"Wow," says Pidge, resting her chin on Hunk's head, "I can't believe I traveled halfway across the galaxy to watch old dudes make out and grope each other in public. Fucking wild."

Hunk claps his hands loudly and finally steps forward. "Alright, alright," he says. He walks over to them, hands ready to physically separate them, but he doesn't have to; god, he's glad he doesn't have to.

Lance and Keith come apart slowly. They stare into each other's eyes, their lips lingering close together. Lance's eyes, always bright, are as dazzling as any sea rolling under a blazing sun. A corner of Keith's mouth quirks upwards, one of his eyebrows matching the movement and lifting slowly. Something brightens and darkens in Lance's eyes at the same time, and he grins as if someone's just cracked a dirty joke.

The words "let's go!" and "c'mon, guys," are at the tip of his tongue. But they don't come out; Hunk knows what it's like to be apart from someone you care about for so long. He can't bring himself to say it. Instead, he awkwardly "uh"s and "um"s by their side and hopes that he's developed telekinetic powers in the ten or so years he's spent as the universe's last paladin on active duty.

Pidge is only one willing enough to interrupt the lovebirds. "Quit being gross with each other and get on the fucking ship! We're gonna be late!" She's heading up the steps to the Castle rather noisily, as if each clanging step was meant to punctuate that she meant what she said.

Lance finally breaks eye contact with Keith to shoot his teammates a sheepish look. "Coming!"

Hunk hears the promise in his words and decides that settles that, and turns to walk after Pidge. He catches a wicked grin spreading across Keith's face as he turns away, and as he reaches the castle he hears the tail end of something he didn't want to hear.

 _"...definitely coming tonight."_

Lance cackles; there's a sound of a hand slapping something fleshy. _"Ya nasty!"_

Hunk groans. _"Why_ are you two like this?" he asks, using Keith's exact words.

He hears Keith clear his throat before responding. "Sorry."

"Oh Huuunk," Lance sing-songs, suddenly appearing on his right to loop an arm around his shoulders. "Did you think about my offer yet? You up for some good ol' 'good cop, bad cop' action down at the war prisons? Or are you still being a lone ranger out here, saving planets and breaking hearts?"

Hunk grins down at Lance. "Saving planets and breaking hearts?"

"Yeah, man. I mean… You know, I hear stories about you. From some of the guys that Pidge drags into the cells. That you're still out here. That, like, you're fighting some kind of war that still exists."

Hunk doesn't say anything. There's not much to say to that, he thinks.

"You know… You don't have to do all that by yourself."

"I'm not," says Hunk, and he surprises himself with the the amount of vigor that's injected into that single statement. "I'm just," the right words escape him, "Keeping an eye out, I guess. There's not a lot of people out here, Lance. At least, not a lot of people who know the universe like we do. We've seen a lot out there while we fought against Zarkon. I'm just not sure everything's over yet."

Lance frowns. "Still?"

"Let it go, Lance," Keith interjects. "He's doing what he feels he needs to do."

Hunk meet Keith's eye, who gives him a look of understanding. Their brief exchange bothers Lance.

"Did he put you up for this?" Lance asks, looking between him and Keith. "You and Hunk keep in touch more than you and I do. Is _this_ why?"

"What? No!" "Lance—"

"Then can you please explain why Hunk is the only one wandering the galaxy, and for some reason _not_ retired like the rest of us? Is something going on out there?"

"Lance, calm down—" "You know we'd tell you if there was something going on—"

"Sendak knows more about what's going outside the cells than I do. How do you think that makes me feel? The entire team of supposedly retired paladins of Voltron floating around saving lives, while I'm stuck at the bottom of an asteroid playing lawyer-turned-jailkeeper?"

Keith clenched his jaw. "Nobody asked you to take on the job of overseeing the Empire's war criminals. You _volunteered—"_

A harsh, metallic clanging breaks the tension amongst them. Shocked, they turn to the source of the noise. It's Pidge, banging Kaltenecker's cowbell against the side of the Castle's entrance. "Yo, guys, like — Can you at least have this fight inside the Castle? We're gonna be late for the wedding!"

The door to the Castle of Lions glows bright and warm, but it does nothing to soothe the terse silence rooted before it.

Suddenly, Lance turns towards them with an ear-to-ear grin and asks, "Who do you think's gonna cry first at the wedding after they say _'I do'_ — Allura or Shiro?"

Hunk and Keith look brief at one another. Neither says a word. Then, Keith reaches out to take Lance's hand in his own. "I'm sorry."

Lance shrugs. "It's fine. I'm the one that overdid it. I'm just — I'm stressed." He runs a hand through his hair. "The last time we tried to meet up for something like this, some dumbfuck with fire powers tried to break out. When I finally got back, I found out two of the guards died. And they had families."

Keith listens quietly, holding Lance's hand.

Hunk envelops his two friends from behind, gathering them in his arms in a big embrace. "Well, you have a whole team there to watch the prison. It's gonna take a lot to get through Nyma and Rolo. Plus, I hear their kids' are a nightmare to cross."

Lance snorts. "Yeah." He looks to Keith. "Twins, can you believe that?"

Keith chuckles. "Come on," he says, patting Hunk's arm. "Pidge's is gonna shut the door on us next."

As if on cue, the cracked tile at the base of the entrance blink once. A voice blares out through the communication lines inside the Castle.

 _"You're damn fucking right I will. Like Nyma always says, get on board or get fucked. Seriously. My ship's out of juice, Lance got a ride here, and Hunk's baby hovercraft won't even get you halfway to his lion. So have fun eating grass if you're too slow."_

Then the entrance starts to hiss, and the doors start to close.

The trio of paladins freak out.

"Wait, Pidge!" "Are you fucking kidding me?!" "What's wrong with my hovercraft?!"

In a few minutes' time, the original Castle of Lions soars through the blackness of space once more, carrying part of an old team en route to a place they would be whole again for the first time in over ten years — home.


End file.
